Pyre
by snipandtear
Summary: She died. It was a simple truth, one Jaune had to carry through the years of battle and bloodshed. Nothing could change that, but at the very least, he could repay her killer. (NSFW)
Jaune scales the ruined tower, dusty window ledge crumbling beneath his foot as he leaps onto the shattered top.

He sees them there, the frozen, hulking behemoth that was the shadow of Vale, and the cold witch of fire.

Pebbles scatter as he walks up, and the metal tip of his boot clanks against something.

It's a weathered piece of bronze, scaly edges of green creeping up its surface. He bends to pick it up.

The knight clenches it for a second, trying to feel the warmth that was there, then shoves it into his ragged knapsack, along with rations, water, and tissues.

He takes a moment to catch his shaky breath.

The rope he used in his harness is removed, and he wraps its length around the still woman's waist, arms, and legs.

The knot is tricky, but Blake was a good teacher.

A strangely well-kept hip flask, the only container Qrow had on hand at the time, is uncapped.

Murky, viscous fluid splashes onto the figure, and his fingers clamp around its skull as the snowy layer fades to reveal raven locks, pale skin, and a scarlet dress.

"Yes! I a- Oof!" the shriek of the sorceress is halted by a padded knee to her abdomen.

Then another.

And another and another and another.

Each time she is rammed with the force of a war-weary Hunter.

Each time her breath is driven out by his endless rage.

Each time he wrenches the bitch back by her neck, spine threatening to snap under the opposing forces.

He pauses for a second, grip loosening, and lets her pant.

The raspy passage of air, the shaky hammering of her heart, the tremble of her meek voice, all of it he feels beneath his calloused palms.

"Stop, please stop. I will ... I will do anything. Can get you anything! Riches! Power! Just, please stop." Her pleas are tinged with the welling of tears.

He puts a finger to his stubbled chin, as if in thought, but keeps the other hand wrapped around her throat.

It would be easy to end it here.

But easy is not for her.

He reaches into his bag, feels for the scratchy bit of metal, and pulls it out.

Her eyes widen at the sight of the headpiece, then close in preparation for her end.

Something settles around her forehead, behind her ears.

She listens as a low, melodic hum begins, and his gauntlets clink at the back of her head.

"Open your eyes."

She does so.

Two blurs flash before her, and she blinks as something enters her eyes.

"Wha-" A coarse fingertip presses against her dry lips.

"Shh, your voice doesn't fit."

Jaune tilts the quivering woman's head up, shifts to look from cheek to cheek.

The circlet is a surprisingly good fit, he'd have to get it polished.

Contacts are just the right shade of green, and her wavy hair looks good in a ponytail.

He shoves her down with a grunt, and begins unbuckling.

Clouds of dust and pebbles kick up as Cinder tries to scramble away, tries to reach for the ledge.

He grabs the end of the rope, and pulls her back, careful not to scrape her skin too harshly. Then he tears her clothes into crimson tatters.

Their rutting is unceremonious.

He shoves into her, slamming against her cervix with no regard, and leaves violent red bite marks around her neck, her shoulders, down to her breasts.

Her screams are sealed by the man's lips.

She tries to fight, to bite down on the probing tongue, but his Aura is endless, and his movements too rough.

She gives up, letting the knight advance, and finds herself following the burning motions.

Even the throbbing in her womb has shifted from pain to pleasure, waves of the tingling sensation washing over her body.

Their moments come at the same time.

His hips buck, her eyes roll back, and he paints her insides in a flood of white.

Their bodies sheen with sweat.

An odd blend of alcohol and mango enters her nose as his breath rolls over her in warm clouds.

He stands, sits her upright by a boulder, and dangles his dripping cock by her mouth.

A defiant ember gleams in her eye as she glares at the moist length.

It fades with the creaks and clanks of the Huntsman's gauntlets, fingers flexing in impatience.

She laps their juices up, grimacing at the salty mix of her fluid and his seed, but continues until she is softly sucking his balls.

He places a hand on her head to stop her.

A wet smack of the lips, and she looks up.

He retrieves the tissues, wipes her mouth and his prick, and brings her to a bridal carry.

He walks to the edge.

His Aura hardens, and he leaps down.


End file.
